In these dark, predawn hours I'm imagining the household awakening - ZEB crying a bit, his Nana or Grandpa comforting him. Mom's hands are busy with Meimei, his little sister, and they shake a little as she bathes her in the special soap and dresses her in the freshly laundered clothes. Dad helps out, or just stands behind Mom with a comforting hand on her shoulder.
And then they're off. And the hospital staff welcome them in. And the day begins; the day that a surgeon will fix Meimei's heart.
Through it all she's probably gurgling and charming. This baby girl who came into the world almost unobtrusively - she scheduled her appointment and kept it perfectly. She came home on time, without a fuss. She's lived the past four months in a home with a boisterous older brother and a great mom and dad, and lots of neighbors. Most of the time you would not think a thing is wrong - but from the very first day we thought today might come - just a little murmur through the stethescope - but it could lead to this.
Today is the day, though, that it gets fixed. And we'll all breathe a little easier.
So I look at the picture of the baby on my fridge, flanked by her brother, overlooked by her grandparents, kitty-corner from an old card from a friend that says, "HONK! Fact # 4 - Geese in formation honk at each other as a means of encouragement." And I think of all the "geese" honking for Meimei today, and I trust that God hears those honks, and I look forward to tomorrow.
